


What My Lips Have Kissed

by alyse



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/F, Primevalathon Ficathon Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2009-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:16:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/pseuds/alyse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah sees her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What My Lips Have Kissed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Annariel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/gifts).



> Pinch hit for [](http://lsellersfic.livejournal.com/profile)[**lsellersfic**](http://lsellersfic.livejournal.com/). Sorry, you had to wait this long, hon.
> 
> Thanks to [](http://aithine.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**aithine**](http://aithine.dreamwidth.org/) for the read through.

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[fandom: primeval](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fandom:+primeval), [fic fandom: primeval](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+fandom:+primeval), [fic genre: femslash](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+genre:+femslash), [fic pairing: jenny/sarah](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/fic+pairing:+jenny/sarah), [ficathon: primeval](http://alyse.livejournal.com/tag/ficathon:+primeval)  
  
---|---  
  
**Prompt:** Prompt 3: _Something inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay's sonnet which starts "What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why"._

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Primeval. Impossible Pictures do

_What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,  
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain  
Under my head till morning; but the rain  
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh  
Upon the glass and listen for reply;  
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain  
For unremembered lads that not again  
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.  
Thus in the winter stands a lonely tree,  
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,  
Yet know its boughs more silent than before:  
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;  
I only know that summer sang in me  
A little while, that in me sings no more._

\-- Edna St. Vincent Millay

-o-

Jenny's house gets cold in the winter. It's empty now that Anthony has moved out, and so is her bed now that he no longer shares it. If she's truthful, it's more the concept of him that she misses than the reality - someone to hold her when it's dark; someone to wake up to.

Anthony was never very good at that supportive boyfriend thing, but the more time that passes, the less Jenny remembers it.

-o-

It's not Cutter's fault that her relationship broke down. It was the hours she worked, the emphasis she put on her career, the fact that Anthony felt neglected.

Her fault, except for the fact that it wasn't her fault either. It was easier to paper over the cracks between them when Anthony asked and she gave without question. Easier to think that the foundations were solid when nothing came along to shake the house.

No, it wasn't Cutter's fault that it ended, but sometimes she forgets that, too.

-o-

She really, really hates the name 'Claudia'. And each time Cutter slips, each time he calls her by someone else's name, she hates it just that little bit more.

-o-

She didn't believe Cutter at first, what with his talk of changes to time and knowing someone else with Jenny's face. The man was clearly insane, touched in the head, a poor lost soul adrift on the sea of reality. This face was hers. It had always been hers. It was the face she saw in the mirror each and every day. She knew every wrinkle; every imperfection; every freckle that she smoothed out with expensive creams and foundations, blending it all away. She knew exactly where upon this head the six grey hairs were, carefully hidden behind the dark dye that was touched up religiously every six weeks.

She knew this face. The idea that she had a doppelganger running around, someone whom Cutter had known... it was ridiculous.

And then Cutter's equally mad wife had looked at her, looked **through** her like she was a particularly interesting specimen but no more than that, and then called her by another's name.

-o-

According to Anthony, she used to primp and preen in front of the bathroom mirror for far too long in the morning. He'd shower first then read the paper in their expensive and rarely used kitchen while she prepared herself for the day. Neither of them ate breakfast; they weren't very good at the domestic thing. She should probably have taken that as a sign.

She showers quickly now, the steam filling the air, on the way to one anomaly site or another, or to bury herself in the bowels of the ARC. She doesn't take the time to swipe the water droplets from the mirror while she dresses and combs her wet hair.

But still, sometimes, she catches a glimpse, foggy and unclear. The eyes that look back are wide and startled, and the hair isn't pinned back into a neat chignon. It curls in little wisps on the forehead as it dries.

She doesn't recognise herself but maybe that's because it's not her she sees.

-o-

She sees Claudia in Cutter's eyes each time he looks at her. Maybe that's why she tries so hard to get him to see her - Jenny - instead. But each offer of a drink, each conversational piece, each witty remark sails by him.

He looks right through her sometimes, and she hates him for it.

He looks right at her sometimes and she doesn't think she's there.

-o-

When Anthony walked out of the door for the last time, convinced that she was betraying him with someone else, it hurt but not as much as she expected. The accusations weren't a surprise. In Anthony's world, when she was no longer there when he needed her, when he wanted her, there must have been someone else. The idea that she might have been the 'someone else' hadn't occurred to him. It was a measure of her messed up life that that was actually a refreshing change.

She has no idea how Claudia Brown would have dealt with it, but Jenny Lewis dealt with it by doing what she always did when life didn't roll out as planned.

She got up, brushed herself off and bought herself a ridiculously expensive pair of shoes.

She was wearing them the first time she met Sarah Page.

-o-

She knows how Cutter feels about her - she's a constant reminder of the past, of all that he's lost. Abby and Connor have a distracted kind of affection for her, something that's lost in whatever tangled thing there is between them. Stephen... Stephen never had much time for her even before he died, and Lester has too much time for her. Too much time and too much for her to do.

That's probably why it takes her a while to realise what's so different about Sarah.

Sarah sees her. Sarah sees _her_.

-o-

Sarah is smart and funny and as much of a workaholic as Jenny is. Cutter may lock himself away in his office for hours at a time, working on his model, all tangled and twisted threads, but Sarah's outgoing and gregarious. She prefers it out in the main office, with the rest of them, rather than closeted away with the dour and withdrawn Cutter, and she's an actual adult, which - as fond as Jenny's grown of Abby and Connor - Jenny finds an immense relief. It makes a change, not shepherding children around, even though dealing with Sarah some days feels like herding cats.

Jenny's used to that by now. But.

But.

Cutter still doesn't see her; perversely, that means it's Cutter that Jenny wants.

She must be part cat as well, to be so bloody awkward. At least she has that much in common with Sarah.

-o-

Then Cutter dies, murdered by his mad ex-wife, and everything starts to fall apart. Connor is lost, throwing himself into rebuilding the ARC as though he believes that if he does, if he manages to put it back together again, Cutter will walk back through the door, whole and unbroken.

But all the king's horses and all the king's men can't fix this. It's beyond Jenny's capability, certainly, and she leaves Connor to Abby to deal with; it's Abby who comforts him, Abby who makes him stop and eat. Abby who drags him home, makes him sleep. And it's probably Abby who holds him at night, when the loneliness is at its worst and the grief overwhelms him.

Jenny sleeps alone. She mourns Cutter, in her cold and empty bed, but the thought that keeps her awake is: _now how am I supposed to know who I am?_

-o-

Curiosity may have killed the cat, but it doesn't stop Sarah. Even after Jenny's left the ARC, even after she's walked away, her head held high and with every intention of starting to live her life like it _is_ hers again, Sarah keeps in touch.

It's texts at first. Casual invites for drinks 'just to catch up'. Jenny's worked for the Government for long enough to be suspicious of Sarah's motives but she's been in PR for long enough for 'networking' to be second nature. Plus, she's more than a little curious herself.

The drinks turn into dinners, then invites to other things - plays that Sarah thinks she will like, concerts that Sarah just happens to have tickets for. Movies that are 'must see'.

Jenny is far from stupid, but it takes her a long time to figure out Sarah's angle. She expects to be pumped for information, or enticed back to work for the ARC. She expects to be turned into a shoulder to cry on, someone with whom to share the things that Sarah can't share with anyone who hasn't signed the Official Secrets Act. But the confidences don't come, and while Sarah keeps her up to date with the comings and goings of her ex-colleagues, she's just as interested in what Jenny is up to as she is in sharing the details of her life.

It's not until the fifth or sixth dinner down the line that Jenny realises that they're dating.

It says something that she's more amused than surprised. She's just not sure **what** it says.

-o-

Jenny went to an all girls' school. And if those fifth form practice 'snogging' sessions so that they knew how to kiss boys when they finally got a chance carried on until sixth form and into University, well... Everyone experiments now and then. It's simply satisfying a natural curiosity.

Sarah leaves her curious, and Jenny is only part cat, after all. Besides, curiosity isn't the only thing than can be deadly. If nothing else, the ARC taught her that.

-o-

Sarah went to a local comprehensive, then six form college, then University. Sarah is passionate about her work, about the past, and her eyes light up and her hands dart around when she talks about it. Her enthusiasm makes Jenny smile, and that's something she's grateful for - finding the ability to smile again.

Sarah has a sweet tooth and has to work every day to keep her weight down because she can't resist a second chocolate biscuit with her morning coffee. And Sarah needs that coffee to function - she's a night owl, and on the mornings when she meets Jenny for coffee, before work, she yawns her way through the conversation, eventually descending into a sort of sleepy, contented silence, her eyes lidded and her face still smooth with sleep.

But even half asleep, Sarah sees her.

After a while, Jenny starts to look back.

-o-

The first time she kisses Sarah, it's on a bright spring morning, just after Sarah has covered another delicate yawn with one thin, shapely hand. Sarah lets out this little squeak of surprise; it seems that even Sarah hadn't realised that they'd been dating. And that amuses Jenny - the fact that Sarah, for all her curiosity and her cat-like tenacity, could be surprised.

Sarah tastes of chocolate and coffee, of sleep and summer warmth. Her eyes are wide open, dazed and dazzling. "Oh," she says, and Jenny kisses her again, swallowing down the purr Sarah lets out as she melts into her.

-o-

Sarah steals the covers but Jenny doesn't mind. The house is warmer now the weather has changed, and her bed is no longer empty.

She'd kick Anthony so he'd roll over in his sleep, stealing the covers back when he moved. But now she presses up against Sarah, and steals her warmth instead.

The End


End file.
